Ordinary Day
by FairCritic
Summary: DonEdgerton. K. Sometimes an ordinary day, is really extraordinary.


A fluffy (and angsty) Don/Ian slash.

_Bang. Bang. Bang._

Don Eppes lowered his gun and inspected the man-shaped target about forty feet from him. Three neat clusters of three holes each marked the center. Good shots. Don clicked the safety, laid down his gun, and slapped the button on the side of the shooting cubicle. The target buzzed toward him and stopped.

"Good aim."

Don turned. Ian Edgerton stood behind him, smiling.

"Hey Ian", Don grinned, "Did I know you were in town?" The two men clasped hands warmly.

"You look good, Eppes. How's it goin'?" Ian inquired pleasantly.

"I'm doing pretty good actually" Don shrugged, "And you? What're you doing here anyway?"

"A case nearby. Thought I'd drop by and see what my favorite FBI team is doing. Probably offer help."

"Well, we can always use another agent."

Ian nodded, then mused, "Nice to know I'm wanted."

"Aw Ian, come on" Don protested, "When have we ever made you feel unwelcome?"

"Never" Ian laughed, "I might ask about you though, Eppes. Why're you alone at the gun range on a Friday night when your team, including your girlfriend and brother, is out drinking at one of your favorite bars?"

Don's smile faded. He shrugged.

"Well, you know, I just wanted some time to myself. Time to think. Difficult case recently."

"Hit you low?" Ian offered, brown eyes concerned.

"Yeah." Don agreed quietly, "Out of nowhere, too."

Shoving his stuff to the side, Don hefted himself up to sit on the waist-high counter, braced his elbows on his knees, and rested his face in his hands. Ian leaned against the divider and watched him, concerned. They sat like that for about five minutes, completely comfortable in each other's presence, and in their shared understanding.

Finally, Ian straightened. "Hey" he said softly. Don lifted his head from his hands to look at Ian. The expression on his face came as close as Don Eppes could get to a lost puppy face.

"Let me buy you dinner" Ian urged. "I know a nice place in the suburbs, by a lake. It's quiet, and privacy's big."

Don stared up at him, then frowned, shaking his head.

"You don't have to do this, Ian." he argued, "I won't be any kind of company."

"I will be" Ian replied, "And right now, company is what you need most. Get your stuff and let's go."

Don nodded and stood, gathering his shooting stuff. As they were walking out to their trucks, he spoke suddenly.

"Ian?"

Ian inspected him thoughtfully.

"Yeah?"

Don grinned at him.

"You're buying."

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"Then he lunged, and I fired. I hit him in the throat. Quick end. Too quick, I kept thinking. I could't stop thinking about what he did to those little girls. That kind of thing...it's just wrong. Just really, really wrong. It was so awful, so nightmarish. There they were, all those little kids, bloody, bruised, crying, locked in cages, covered in..." Don paused, his eyes haunted, then swallowed determinedly, "In stuff. They had to drag Megan out bodily. She was going to rip the partner limb from limb." He drew a shuddering breath, and Ian nudged the root beer float closer. Don gratefully took several sips and rubbed a hand over his face.

"I just can't stop seeing it" Don admitted, "I just can't get those kids out of my head."

Silence fell. Don and Ian nursed their respective floats and sank into their respective musings.

"When I first went to Afghanistan..." Ian murmured, eyes distant, "My team and I were sent to rendezvous with a traveling refugee group, and escort them to safety. Raiders got to them first. We could smell 'em before we saw 'em. Then all of a sudden we topped a dune and there they were. The entire camp had been destroyed and everyone in it slaughtered. I'll never forget walking into that camp, standing there. There was a child's hand less than a foot from my boot. Just the hand, nothing else. I smelled blood before because i'd hunted back home, but this..." He shook his head, "This was different. First time I'd ever thrown up in my life. I still have nightmares about it."

"Guess we're both screwed up" Don smiled sardonically, "What the hell. All for one and one for all, right?"

"It's not about forgetting" Ian informed him, "It's about accepting, forgiving, letting go and moving on. You'll never get better 'till you learn to let go of the bad things. It's the only way I survived war. It's the only way you'll be able to be happy."

Don's smile disappeared.

"You sound like my mother telling me to toss a broken toy" he whispered, "And you're right, I know you're right. It's just so hard to let go. It almost feels like betrayal. Like it's wrong to let them fade."

"You'll always remember" Ian explained, "But you won't let them rule your life."

"Maybe" Don whispered. Ian watched him rub at the condensation on his root beer float. Reaching across the table, he guided Don's hand to curl around the glass, and wrapped his own callused fingers over Don's. He lifted gently and Don's arm followed, lifting the glass to his mouth. As the creamy, frothy liquid touched his lips, something changed irrevocably.

They'd both been subconsciously aware of their changing relationship, but up to this point, it had been something avoided, and unaccepted. Now, it was consciously acknowledged by both, and along with it came the knowledge that they both intended to do something about the change.

Ian let go of the glass and Don lowered it back to the table. Stretching upward slowly, Ian leaned over the table. Don leaned forward to meet him. Their lips touched, a simple kiss, stating silently to each other their new acknowledgement, thier new feelings. It lasted only for a few seconds, then they eased back into thier chairs.

"I think we should take a walk around the lake" Ian stated calmly. He eyed the mostly-untouched floats and added, "Waste of good ice cream."

Don smiled crookedly and chugged his.

"Only yours" he answered cheekily. Ian snorted quietly.

"It's still unnappreciated" he informed the agent, then stood, picking up the cheque as he did. Don shrugged into his jacket.

"A walk it is" he smiled, "Now hurry up, I have to work tomorrow."

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The two agents took a long walk around the lake, during which many laughs and playful chases and shoves were shared, but no words. They simply felt unnecessary. Afterwards, Ian drove Don to his apartment, and walked him to his door.

Leaning against the door frame, Ian was sorely tempted to push Don into his home, lock the door, and take control. That wouldn't strengthen thier relationship, though, so he abstained.

"Maybe you should stay the night?" Don offered, but Ian shook his head firmly.

"Whatever it becomes, I don't want our relationship to be about adrenaline and sex" he explained, "So instead of what I want to do, I'm going to say, 'Goodnight, Don', and walk away." He proceeded to do just that.

"Ian?"

He turned around, and Don smiled at him.

"Thanks."

AN: I really struggled with the relationship dominance issue, because Ian and Don both have such dominant personalities, but in the end I settled for Ian. He much surer of himself, and he accepts himself and his world for what it is. He also copes better with his job and with emotional and mental pressure. Therefore, he is dominant. Also, this is set a short while after episode 8 of season 4, and does not take into account the next episodes until I say differently.


End file.
